Teen Dreamers
by Machine Gun Kath
Summary: In the days when Tony was a sweet little kid...the boy had to grow up fast... Chapters 4 & 5 now up!
1. The Malt Shop Mob

TEEN DREAMERS PART ONE:  
THE MALT SHOP MOB  
  
The year was 1971. Mario Puzo's "The Godfather" was playing to packed audiences across the country, Frank Sinatra announced his retirement in 'Time' magazine, and a group of young boys were sat in a malt shop in New Jersey. The youngest was 9, the oldest was 13. None of them were old enough to see that year's top movie, but they were fascinated by it.  
  
Like boys did, they acted out what they thought happened. Their shouts of childish innocence echoed round the streets. It was all make-believe, just a bit of fun. The malt shop was their gang hideout, the tree on the street corner was the jail, the old park bench was alternatively the morgue where bodies ended up or the electric chair.  
  
On this particular day, they boys were sat in the malt shop after a particularly energetic game. Mike Spionza - the oldest in the group - had planned and carried out the biggest "breakout" since the game was started. All of them were tired out and in need of refreshment. Julia - the attractive drama-student waitress - came to take their orders. She supplied them with their shakes and left.  
  
They discussed the recent victory, and other important matters. One of the boys - a chubby, squeaky-voiced runt - said "Hey Ant, I hear your dad's one of them."  
  
The boy so addressed was 12-year-old Anthony Soprano, who had no idea what his friend was talking about. "One of who? What do you mean?"  
  
"You know, Mafia."  
  
Before Anthony could react, another boy cut in with:" Talking of Mafia, check out the goons coming in right now." The boys swivelled as one towards the door.  
  
Two men entered. The elder one couldn't have been much more than thirty - in fact, he was twenty-eight - but he already wore the look of a weathered con. Tattoos snaked down biceps hardened by prison life and a four-year Army stint. His young companion couldn't have been out of his teens yet - he still had a handful of acne pimples on his jaw and cheek. His face was young but sour from a lifetime of disillusionment.  
  
Julia went across to greet them. "Hi honeys."  
  
"Hi babe, Your boss here?"  
  
"I think he's out back, I'll check." She walked off, swaying her peachy ass very sensuously. It wasn't just the men at the bar who gazed after her with lustful eyes.  
  
While she was gone, the older man noticed the table of giggling boys, and stared at them with some distaste. The giggling did stop, but still he wasn't satisfied. "Silvio", he said to the younger man, "go sort out those kids. I don't want them fucking up this operation."  
  
"OK Paulie." The younger man walked to the booth and knelt down beside Anthony, who was sat on the end. "Hey kid, " he said, "whadda they call you?"  
  
"I'm.I'm Anthony Soprano, sir." Silvio's eyes flashed recognition.  
  
"Soprano? You Johnny's kid?"  
  
"Yes sir." This was a rather delicate situation. Johnny didn't want his boy involved in this life - not yet anyway. He had to choose his words very carefully here.  
  
"Your dad's crazy about you. It's Anthony this, Anthony that.you mean a lot to him." Silvio looked like he was going to continue, but his older associate called him.  
  
"Come on Sil, the old man's waiting for us."  
  
Silvio stood up and brushed the dirt from his knees, said, "We gotta take care of this, see you guys later" and left.  
  
The "old man" was Fredrick Domingo, who owned the shop. He was a hopeless gambler. Hopeless in that he hadn't won a game for over a year and yet he still pitted his hopes on the roll of a dice or the spin of a clinking wheel. Paulie and Silvio took him into the store cupboard, where they beat him shitless.  
  
Out front, Anthony was going over what just happened. His friend had said they looked like Mafia types, and they - they knew his father. Was it possible that.Nah. It couldn't be. He shook his head, trying to put those thoughts out of his mind.  
  
The door behind the counter opened again, and Paulie and Silvio walked out. Paulie had a very firm "Don't fuck about with me" expression on his face. Sil just looked disaffected. You wouldn't have been able to tell that they had just pounded a man for $15,000 worth of unpaid roulette debts.  
  
Paulie walked over to the table and knelt beside Anthony. "Kid, you don't know me, and it's probably best that you don't. But send your father our best wishes for his upcoming anniversary."  
  
"Ok. Who are you?"  
  
"Just say it's from a couple of well-wishing.eh.drivers, right?" Paulie dug Anthony in the ribs and smiled briefly. Young Anthony was unsure what to make of this, so he half-smiled for a brief second. Paulie stood up and walked out, followed closely by Silvio.  
  
Drivers? Anthony had never known his dad employ drivers. Boys on bikes delivered any meat products. Larger orders were picked up by the person who ordered them. Saltieri's had never delivered in vans. There just wasn't enough demand to justify the expense. Yes, there was something very fishy about those two. He would ask his dad when he saw him. 


	2. Lost Innocence

TEEN DREAMERS PART TWO:  
LOST INNOCENCE  
  
Livia Pollio Soprano was a houseproud woman. The house was all she had. Even if she had had a 'proper' education, she would have been tied to the stove. Three children and a fat-ass husband had made that decision for her.  
  
At half-five, Johnny - her spouse - came in. He would be out again before half-six, but he was always on time for his dinner at six. If there wasn't a meal on the table by the sixth chime of the clock, someone would pay dearly for their crime.  
  
Next the two girls - Janice and Barbara - trooped downstairs. Janice was a hefty girl, and her parents would always make comments about her ever- swelling backside. Tonight was no different. Johnny grinned at the prospect of a good tease. "Don't worry if you snap the chair, hun. We've got some new ones coming in next week." Janice didn't reply.  
  
The last to arrive was Anthony at ten to. He came complete with cheap brown paper bag. "Ma", he said, handing it her, "here's the fusilli you ordered from Mr Valhi."  
  
"What 'bout the other things?"  
  
"He said they'd be coming soon." Anthony sat at the table between Janice and Johnny. He knew he was in a bad position, but Ma's good chair was for Ma's tired old back and legs only. It wasn't worth his life to take up his position in that seat. They sat down, Janice said grace and the meal commenced.  
  
Halfway through, Anthony mentioned his encounter in the malt shop. Johnny stopped, a lump of steaming pork almost in his mouth. "What did the guys look like, Anthony?"  
  
"One of the guys had big arms, a weird nose and tattoos, the other one had spots and a kind of Elvis 'do." Johnny's fork clattered against his plate, and his eyes hardened. Not a good sign. Anthony hoped that he hadn't got the people he'd never met before into too much trouble. "Is that bad, Pa?"  
  
"Son, they are not the type of people you want to be messing around with."  
  
"How do you mean?"  
  
"They're criminals. Paulie's been in and out of correctional facilities since he was nine. He's just come out the army after a Section 8."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"Section Eight. He's not alright upstairs." Johnny tapped his temple to illustrate this point. Anthony was still mystified, but thought it wiser not to say anything. "What about the other guy?"  
  
Johnny shrugged. "I don't even know his name. Paulie hangs round with a lot of spotty sciocchi, I can't be expected to remember how he calls all of them." He picked up his fork and continued eating. Discussion over.  
  
After dinner, Anthony went up to his room. Why was everything changing so dramatically? Those men were criminals, yet his father knew details that weren't immediately obvious. Did that mean that he - his father - really was one of them? He buried his head in the pillow and tried to make some sense of it all.  
  
Just down the hall, in her bedroom, Janice was also reflecting back on the day, but for a different reason. She had also seen those two men walking purposefully towards that same malt shop. The younger one had been more than a little pimply and sour, but the older one.God! What a body! Muscles like trees and real "hard-man" tattoos. Her homework lay untouched as she sketched out his features on a bit of dirty paper. Madonn', what a lover he would make!  
  
Downstairs, Livia was washing up. Her kids were so ungrateful, just take, take, and take all the time. She heartily prayed that their children would be as much as a curse to them as they were to her. It would do them a lot of good.  
  
At Saltieri's, Johnny and his brother Corrado JR were discussing Anthony's meeting with Paulie. "He didn't seem to understand how close he got."  
  
Corrado spat on the floor. "Let the kid learn at his own pace, Johnny. Don't force anything on him. He's smart, he'd have figured it out eventually anyway."  
  
At this point, Paulie came in with coffee. "Paulie," Johnny said, "What did you tell my kid?"  
  
"Your kid?" He rolled a wad of gum round his mouth contemplatively. "Nothin'."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Why would I tell your kid anything? I only saw him for a moment. If you want to grill anyone about it, ask my pimply little shitwit friend. I'll go fetch him if you want."  
  
"Ok." Paulie left the brothers, and returned just seconds later with his teenage companion. He had that just-woken-up look and his hair was all over the place. Johnny went through the same routine with him and got similar, sullen replies. And a couple of grunts. Johnny and Corrado let their underlings go, and stared at each other in silence. 


	3. The Teen Mobsters

TEEN DREAMERS PART THREE:  
THE TEEN MOBSTERS  
  
Silvio Dante, although he did jobs and hung around with Paulie Gualtieri, was not part of the DiMeo family. Any money he collected, any errands he ran would just be credited to Paulie, with not a word of recognition to him. Such details didn't matter to Dante. All he was after was something to brag about to the teen gang.  
  
The 'gang', if it could be called that, was a group of acne-riddled punk thugs in their teens and early twenties. Dante at 17 was not the youngest - but then, he wasn't the oldest. That honor fell to Jackie Aprile, who was fast approaching his 23rd birthday. As the oldest he had automatically assumed the role of leader, and it was a part he seemed born to play.  
  
However, some had been dissatisfied with Jackie's rule. They had broken off and formed an opposing factor under Jackie's brother, Richie Aprile. Richie had proven to be a singularly disasterous, narsissic leader. The splinter cell had booted him out on his ass, drifted leaderless, then disbanded. Richie begged to be let back in the original gang, but Jackie wouldn't hear of it. "You ran out on us once." He said. "Why should I let you back in?"  
  
"For fuck's sake Jack, I'm your brother."  
  
"That's still no excuse." They were squaring up for a good old-fashioned fistfight when Dante pulled them apart. He was a little guy - 5'9 and skinny as a lat - but he could end any fight in progress with just a few words. "Guys, knock it off." He said.  
  
Watching this with some amusement was the tonsarilly challenged Ralphie Cifaretto. For some unknown reason his hair had begun falling out in his mid-teens and at 19 he was now almost completely bald. He always wore a hat, and was planning to buy a wig with the money he made selling stolen cigarettes on street corners.  
  
It was now six months since Anthony had witnessed a most brutal crime. His father had cut off Mr Satriale's pinky for faliure to pay off his gambling debt. Johnny had explained the reasoning behind it, had made it seem like something that happened every day in his line of work. Maybe it did. Despite that, Anthony had hit the floor that very night after a panic attack. Four stitches later Anthony had vowed to stay away from the life his father led. His resolve was beginning to waver.  
  
School had never held much interest for him. Teachers drilled facts into him and he spewed them back out. There was no interest in the individual pupils. They were just there, like the desks or the blackboard. Teachers were chosen for their ability to strike the fear of God into young minds, not their PR abilities.  
  
Anthony's stitches were a source of speculation for everyone. The kids said he had had a run in with some local heavies. The teachers said his father must have hit him with the buckle when he was giving him a good belting. Anthony wasn't going to tell anyone that he had 'fainted' over a joint of pork and hit his head on the table. He just said he cut himself on a piece of glass.  
  
In science class, the teacher was teaching 'human reproduction'. While the rest of the class sniggered, he stared unseeingly at the board. Those two in the maltshop. They were well dressed, obviously with a lot of cash to throw around. His own father and uncle earned enough money to pay the wages of a small army. Both their himes were filled with the trappings of wealth. Livia was alwayd dressed in the height of fashion, her hair neatly styled. A life of crime had its perks.  
  
"Mr Soprano?" The teacher's voice brought him back.  
  
"Yes ma'am?"  
  
"Could you repeat what I just said?"  
  
"No ma'am."  
  
"That's because you weren't listening, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
"I though as much. Go stand at the back of the room. I'll see you after class." Anthony made his sullen way to the back. Life was so unfair to him sometimes. 


	4. Their One True Love

TEEN DREAMERS PART FOUR:  
  
THEIR ONE TRUE LOVE  
  
To those who wonder why the update's taking so long - I'm in the middle of my GCSEs. (What a time to start writing fan-fics!) -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --  
  
It was a brilliant sunny day. Janice and two of her girlfriends were sat on the park swings, watching the sky and the young lovers picnicking. One of the young men looked vaguely familiar, but she just couldn't place him. She realised with a sudden flash of jealousy that it was her own crush, Gualtieri. He was flirting and carrying on with a young blonde bit of stuff. A young blonde bit of stuff that Janice wanted to smash into tiny pieces.  
  
One of her friends noticed her distant gaze and waved a hand in front of her eyes. She got no response. The other friend tried. Again, she got no response. The two of them were starting to get seriously worried when she jerked back. "Do you see that slut?" she demanded, pointing at the tangled couple. "She's doing him right there on the floor!"  
  
Janice's friend Sandra called out "Hey! There are kids here!" The only response she got was being flipped off by Paulie. It was unexpected, to say the least. Sandra, who had never had an obscene gesture made towards her before by anyone, didn't know how to respond. Janice, being the levelheaded child she was, flipped him right back.  
  
Over on the floor, the "doing it" was actually nothing more than the blonde straddling him, both fully clothed. They were talking in light, carefree tones of life and the various troubles of it. "Sometimes it hardly seems worth the bother" he commented. The blonde just smiled and said nothing.  
  
-- -- --@@@-- -- -- --  
  
In a different park, a gang of girls is also sat on swings, but these girls are more mature than Janice and her friends, each with a boy salivating over them. The girls gossip about school friends and the movies, while the boys sit on the sidelines and watch, smoking silently.  
  
Dante is one of the boys, but this isn't his petty crew. The lads he sits with now are all still in school - all but he, that is. School never held much interest for him. All he ever got out of that particular institute was the message that life is shit from the start. You can't improve your destiny.  
  
Gabriella Santoro kept glancing at her guy. Each time he'd wink at her, she'd stick her tongue out at him, and they'd both grin and look away. The old routine never varied in the least. It was comforting to know he would always be there for her, no matter what.  
  
In a corner of the park, a few boys are playing football. They are young, hardly out of elementary school. The lads on the bench make excuses to the swinging girls and move closer to the game. Considering the age of the players, the fixture is quite skilfully played. Their teenage supporters cheer them on and provide helpful hints to the boys.  
  
-- -- --@@@-- -- -- --  
  
Across town, Paulie's blonde has sent him to fetch hot-dogs from a vendor by the gates. Janice is formulating a plan to be rid of her. It's complex and rather fanciful, rather like her. Her plan involves a lot of rope, a carpet and a very deep river. It would take a very long time just to assemble the props.  
  
The afternoon is fading fast. The park is almost empty now, and the blonde has decided to go over to her love. Together they leave the park arm-in- arm. Janice's friends decide it's time to go too. Eventually she is persuaded to leave as well. She walks her friends home and decides to call at the shop.  
  
The shop was empty when she walked in. Not even old Dave, who was behind the counter at the old bell's tinkle, was in there. Twice she called "Hello?", twice she got no response. It was creepy in there, empty and dark. She called once more then backed out the shop.  
  
-- -- --@@@-- -- -- --  
  
Outside Gabriella's house, she and Silvio were sat on the wall, holding hands and gazing at the stars. A light wind had risen, ruffling their hair and blowing the litter about. "Just look at that" he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't believe how people can be so untidy." She laughed and rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
Inside the house, Gabriella's parents were watching the couple. Every detail was visible, thanks to a street light. Gabriella knew this, and was careful not to allow Silvio to get too intimate. If he did, daddy would bang on the window, call her in and not let him see her again.  
  
He whispered in her ear and she giggled in her sweet, irritating, girly way. It was annoying, but pretty cute. He checked his watch and discovered it was rather late for a boy to be out. Like the gentleman he was he walked her down the path to her door, chastely kissed her on the cheek and walked home once she was inside. Chaste young love is so sweet.  
  
-- -- --@@@-- -- -- --  
  
Contrast this with the scene in Paulie's apartment. Aided by a very liberal amount of cheap wine, the randy young stud was having his way with the blonde hussy. She was screaming like a banshee and claiming she'd never had it so good. It was a thinly disguised lie, but Paulie wasn't smart enough to recognize it as an untruth. He wouldn't have cared either way - he was only screwing her to get back at her sister.  
  
The night wore on and the screams subsided into moans. The blonde was as energetic as any girl, but an all nighter was a bit much, especially after a week of them. Truth be told, she was starting to get a little bit bored of it all. After tonight, she was gone. No more would he tire her mind with pointless trivialities or her body with meaningless sex. Come morning, she was leaving. He could jack off after that for all she cared. 


	5. Life Changes

TEEN DREAMERS PART FIVE: LIFE CHANGES  
  
In a week, Gabriella Santoro would be 17. She would be older, supposedly wiser. In recognition of this, for the first time ever, her parents were letting her have a party at home unsupervised. They would be in Detroit on business. On one hand she was disappointed that they wouldn't be there. On the other, she was happy. No parents meant no chaperones. No chaperones meant that maybe, just maybe, Silvio could be persuaded to spend the night with his pretty young honey.  
  
There was a lot to do, she knew that. Dad would have locked away all the booze, so she would just have to ask guests to bring their own. Mom had never approved of her love, but she wouldn't be there to object. The way was clear for him to stay over. Maybe she would get more out of this than an innocent kiss on the cheek.  
  
Later that day, she called Silvio and asked him to come over. He was tired from a night of making collections and smoking pot, but not even that could keep him away from her. He's come round, but she would have to promise to be very quiet.  
  
About half-an-hour later, he turned up on her front porch. He'd said he was wrecked, and he looked it. Red rimmed eyes and messy hair, a dead give-away for a late night and a few joints. He was angling for a little sympathy, and Gabriella took the bait. Cooing and stroking, she led him onto the couch and made him a cup of strong black coffee.  
  
Gabriella's two sisters, Maria and Angela, were still upstairs. At least they weren't around to aggravate her stoned boyfriend. She could never say what he was liable to do in this state if annoyed. Left alone, like now, he would just slump in an untidy crumple of man, clothes and slightly tacky jewelry. Lord bless him, she thought as she brought him his drink.  
  
--@@@-- -- --  
  
Back at the Dante residence, Silvio's father Beppe was waiting on a call. Johnny Boy had told him he'd call to be picked up about 12, what with his own car being in for repairs and Junior being busy. They had been working this thing out for months, and they finally had a chance to do it.  
  
If only he would get off the pot, Beppe would consider putting his son forward for membership. You need a clear head and keen senses for this thing of ours.  
  
At about 10 past 12, the phone rang. It was Johnny, ready for picking up. Beppe shouted to his wife, got in the car and drove round to the Soprano house, almost four miles away. All the way Beppe was grumbling to himself about how Johnny wanted him now. Didn't he understand how long it took to get there?  
  
-- --@@@-- -- --  
  
In the Soprano house, Anthony was upstairs trying to puzzle out his math homework. Livia was no good at math, Johnny was going to dash out and his sisters were hopeless. Why did everything have to be so hard for him? It just wasn't fair. Once again he tried to tackle it, then he heard something. His room was above the front porch, so snatches of conversations drifted up to him. "Beppe, when you bringing your son in? You waiting for him to kill first?"  
  
"Nah, just waiting for him to get off the pot."  
  
"Ah. That girl he's with now is a good influence, she'll clean him up. Better than that hussy slut he almost got pregnant."  
  
"Yeah, I guess. I can't believe we're finally gonna pop Missoni, y'know?"  
  
"Don't sound so keen Bep'. We might not see him."  
  
Then the door clicked shut and they were gone. Anthony's heart was in his mouth. Who was Missoni? What had he done? What was "Y'know"? He knew Beppe as "Uncle Bep'", and his son only by sight. The girlfriend he knew not at all. He decided that the best course of action was to ignore it. Ignorance is bliss, he told himself as he wormed down under the covers with the homework he could not do.  
  
--@@@-- -- --  
  
A couple of hours later, Silvio had cleared the pot from his system. It was a good thing he had - Gabriella's sisters were up and causing havoc. Where he would have killed them while under the influence, here he was teasing them, playing with them - in other words, being like a big brother to them.  
  
Gabriella was snuggled up to him.. She knew about his family background and what his dad did - which was why Mom disapproved - and she didn't care. He had big dreams anyway. His life ambition was to leave New Jersey with her as his bride and become a big lounge singer in Las Vegas. She just didn't have the heart to tell him that his voice wasn't a lounge voice. It was more of a rock voice.  
  
Eventually the little girls went off to play in the garden. Mom and Dad were at work, so this was a great opportunity for a little fumble in Gabby's underwear. Skimpy little bra - ooh very nice! The sexy little minx had probably had this in mind all the time. She was wearing rather large panties, so that was most definitely out of the question. Not for long though. If he had his way, she'd get a very special birthday present.  
  
--@@@-- -- --  
  
On the road, Johnny was very quiet. This was unlike him, so Beppe asked what was the matter. He heaved a huge sigh and it all came out. How little Anthony had had a glimpse of the mob lifestyle - Paulie and Silvio - in a malt shop and was becoming quiet and withdrawn. Beppe knew his son hung round with Paulie and made collections on his behalf, but he hadn't known his child had influenced another. While he wanted his boy in and Anthony had to learn one way or another, he was still young.  
  
Once again silence reigned. They both knew what was on each other's mind, but they didn't want to discuss it. They had both known Missoni for a long, long time. He was a good man, but he had sold them out, disobeyed orders, violated rules. Like it or not, he had to go.  
  
They pulled into a slip road, lit only by a street light at the other end. Opposite them was a diner, part owned by Missoni. He was in there, cleanup the mess left by the dinner crowd. Beppe got out and made his way to the diner. Johnny moved into the drivers eat to get a better view. Beppe went in, Missoni recognized him. He ran but was barely behind the counter when six bullets tore into him. Two scraped his arm and embedded themselves in the back wall. One hit his arm, two his legs. The final one blasted into his skull and he fell.  
  
Beppe didn't stay. He darted out the diner, barely giving Johnny time to move back into his own seat. He hit the gas and was out of there. 


	6. Love, Pain and Rock 'n' Roll

TEEN DREAMERS PART SIX: LOVE, PAIN AND ROCK 'N' ROLL ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Johnny got in late. He had been to Beppe's for dinner to avoid both Livia's overcooked pork and Livia herself. Mrs Dante was a wonderful woman. She was pretty, bright and vigorous. On top of that, she accepted that her husband had goomars as a fact of life. Not at all like Livia.  
  
The dragon herself was waiting for her husband at the top of the stars in dressing gown and slippers. She was not pleased to see him. A cold dinner on the table, a frigid woman in the bed. It had always been that way with her, even before the children were born. Johnny pushed past her violently and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Fuck that passionless, vile twat.  
  
Morning broke cold and black. Anthony knew something was going to go wrong from the moment he opened his eyes. It was Saturday, and he had already arranged to go to the park to play with his friends. Johnny and Livia were arguing before they got up, a common enough thing in that household. Jan and Barbara would be bitching at each other too. Anthony got dressed hurriedly and was out before anyone saw him.  
  
His first stop was his friend Mike's house. Mike was a small, spotty boy with glasses who was generally considered to be a bit of a nerd. Only Anthony knew about Mike's obsession with weaponry, and that was only because they were such close friends. He knocked on the door. Mike answered almost immediately and pulled Anthony in. He didn't want anyone seeing him.  
  
Once inside, Anthony explained why he had come round so early. Mike, ever the sympathetic one, took him up to his room to show him a modified weapon he had just perfected. "It can fire quick as anything" he explained, pushing his milk-bottle glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. Anthony was impressed. If he had no choice about following in his father's footsteps, he at least wanted to be prepared for it.  
  
-- -- --@@@-- -- --  
  
The two of them went to the park at half-nine. Anthony's other friends Steve and James were already there, kicking the litter that was strewn about the place. It was a god-forsaken spot, frequented by drug addicts, whores and pimps, but it was the only space the boys had to play in.  
  
Silvio was sat on a bench watching the boys, but the pretty blonde snuggled up to him wasn't Gabby. Even at this young age he was forming the habits of a lifetime. She sparked up a joint, took a drag, then held it out to him. He declined with a slight head movement. He would get off it even if it killed him. His dad wanted him to quit, and so did Gabby. For them he would do anything.  
  
-- --@@@-- -- --  
  
Gabby herself was sat in her room with a bunch of friends. They were styling each other's hair and giggling about their boyfriends. Gabriella was the youngest, and the only one who was still a virgin.  
  
Her 17th birthday was three whole days away. It wouldn't be legal even then, but if she took the correct precautions, nothing would come of it. Egged on by her friends, she decided she would ask Silvio to sleep with her the night she turned 17.  
  
Amy - her best friend - decided that now would be a good time to try a bridal style on her friend. Sitting her in front of the mirror, she fussed about for white bobbles and hairgrips. Slowly, delicately, a beautiful hairstyle that would make any bride feel like a princess was created. Gabby stared at the mirror. Her reflection stared back, a reflection of an older, adult Gabriella. The future Mrs Silvio Dante. 


End file.
